I sent my son to college. I'm sure that is where he went.
Do you know what he did? He checked out books from the library that were not for a class. Here is his list: Camus' The Plague, Heidegger's Being and Time, and Rice's The Vampire Lestat. We'll all ignore the fact that I had him read The Plague in eleventh grade for modern world history and literature, and he doesn't remember being assigned it. That is not the point.
The point is that he just finished reading Genesis along with essays from Paul Tillich, Martin Buber, and Kierkegaard for a class and decided to pick up Heidegger for something challenging.
I suggested that he would like The Stranger by Camus next if he liked The Plague and told him to let me know if he thought Heidegger was worthwhile for me to try to struggle through.
He has always been a deep thinker and a strong reader, but really. Where did he come from? And, to think he's reading and thinking in college? I know that's why I sent him, but you can never be sure they aren't up all night partying and skipping school. I'm popping with pride at the idea of my baby thinking all of these deep thoughts and looking for challenges. I do love that boy.
Meanwhile, I think I'm going to drop Melville for a while and pick up Camus.